Thursday, June 16, 2011

My Dearest Olivia,

I feel like I didn't get much chance to tell, or even show you how much I loved you in the short time you were with us. So I've decided to write you...

I'm so sorry I wasn't able to protect you or to save you. And even though I'm sure you know why you left us, I can't help but feel so much sadness and guilt. I think sometimes that maybe you didn't know how excited we were to have you. I'm not always the best at expressing my emotions. But If I had known then what I know now - I would have told you every second of every day how wanted you were. I would have taken every possible picture and expressed every emotion to everyone about my happiness for you. I wouldn't have let myself get so frustrated or stressed about having to be on bed rest. I hope you never think I blamed you for that. And I hope you don't think that I didn't take it seriously. I struggle so much with that.

When you were just 7 weeks old, they told us that it was possible I was having a miscarriage. It scared me. I put a guard up. I had already told everyone you were coming. I didn't want to get too excited and then it not work out. But every time I started bleeding, and you were fine. People would say, "She's tough like her mama". I sure don't feel tough now. I remember my first few ultrasounds with you. I would joke with the tech and my doctor that you must be a girl... already giving me grey hairs and causing so much commotion. I remember at 16 weeks when I was told that you were a girl. My Doctor said then the blood clot was small, and things were looking great. I couldn't wait to tell everyone. Daddy didn't get to come with me to that ultrasound, it was one of those last minute rush to the doctors situations. I wanted to surprise him. I decided I was going to get black balloons and have them filled with hot pink confetti. He popped it and saw the pink confetti go flying all over the carpet. It was such a happy moment. Daddy was so happy to have his little girl. We talked often about how he would be wrapped around your little finger. I wanted you to be a mama's girl. My favorite thing to do at night was to listen to your little heart beating away. I could hear you moving around and would always get so excited. Eventually I could feel what I was hearing and that was even more amazing. I would sit and listen and wonder who you were going to be. What you were going to look like. I always imagined us doing things together. Cooking, shopping, singing, dancing... everything. Did you hear the music I played for you? I would sing and dance around, thinking I can't wait for the day I can actually do this with you in my arms. When daddy and I would be out we would say to each other, "Can't wait until Olivia can do this with us!". I wanted you to love what we loved. The first outfit we bought you was an OSU onesie. I imagined you wearing it every Saturday for the football games. That is until we could get a little cheerleader outfit. I joked with a friend once that I was making a little beaver fan from the start. I spent a lot of time planning what your nursery was going to look like. The theme was going to be love birds, and have all kinds of colors. Daddy and I both loved the idea. We had picked a crib, bedding, toys.. I always dragged daddy to the baby section to look at what I thought we should get for you. It was fun trying to decide what we thought you would like. We were at a baby store once and I insisted on buying this baby book! I loved it. I started filling it out weeks before you came. I couldn't wait until I could fill out all your little firsts. And while that book won't get filled up now... I'm glad I pushed daddy to buy it. Your little prints are in there.. and your ultrasound pictures. I'll always cherish it.

It didn't take long to pick your name. In fact I think we had names picked out before I even had an ultrasound. We both loved Olivia, it was like daddy's middle name, which is Oliver. And then you would have my middle name, Marie. Olivia Marie Townshend. Such a pretty name. It was perfect. Olivia means peace. And there isn't a better word to describe you now. You were so peaceful looking. And Beautiful. I also recently looked up your birth flower.. it was Lily of the valley, which also means peace. Some believe the lily of the valley prompts visions of heaven, aiding us to see a brighter future. Well I don't think that could be more true and perfect. Your grandma Lois is going to plant some in her garden for you... It will be your little spot.

I will never be able to go back and changed what happened Olivia. I know that even though we had big plans for you... you had bigger plans for yourself. Bigger plans for me and your daddy. And while I struggle with my own personal guilt and sadness as to why you are gone. I know you are looking down on us all saying, "Just you wait and see..."